


The Things We Do For Our Fans

by Yombatable



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, FrUK, Humor, M/M, Probably other pairings too, Seriously like every drabble turns sickeningly fluffy, but it focuses on FrUK, either that or extremely minor, if there are they'll only be hinted at, sometimes, youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 16,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yombatable/pseuds/Yombatable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles about 'FlyingMintBunny' and 'BigBrotherFrancis', a pair of Youtubers who are simultaneously great and awful at their jobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the description, this is going to be just a bunch of disconnected drabbles in the same AU, I'm not sure how many there'll be yet. All of them focus on Arthur (A gaming youtuber by the name of FlyingMintBunny) and Francis (A vlogger by the name of BigBrotherFrancis) and none of them should be particularly long. 
> 
> I think that's it.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Oh for fucks sake!" Came the rather more irritated than usual yell from Arthur's recording room. Francis frowned at the door as a fresh string of profanity drifted from the door and he idly wondered if he should check on the man.

                Now that he came to think of it, he did remember Arthur mentioning something that morning about his fans demanding more 'rage games'. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, half of the reason he was as popular as he was, was because of the fact that he was absolutely hilarious when he got riled up. Francis could personally attest to this, put simply, it wasn't just the 'rage games' that wound Arthur the wrong way.

                After another moment of deliberation, he decided that he would make tea, because an angry Arthur wasn't a pleasant Arthur, and quite honestly, it wasn't as funny when he hadn't caused it.

                Arthurs shouts from down the hall were soon drowned out by the squealing of the kettle, and Francis was content to leave it that way, at least until he managed to figure out exactly where he'd hidden the tea. Alfred had visited recently, and after the incident a year prior he had insisted on hiding it whenever the sunny American visited from The States.

                It's a long story.

                Eventually, it was located behind the flour in the pantry, and brewed in Arthur's favourite mug, the Harry Potter one because his Doctor Who one was in the dishwasher, just to butter him up a little. Quite honestly, Francis was certain he'd need all the help he could get.

                He knocked before slipping into the small office that Arthur had claimed for recording, but that Francis thought would serve much better as an art studio, the man himself turning to him and slipping off his headphones with a long suffering sigh and a scowl.

                "What?" was his surly greeting.

                "That's a pleasant way to greet the man who's bringing you tea." Francis replied easily, "You sounded a little stressed."

                Arthur took the offered tea, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The things I bloody do for my fans." He sighed.

                Francis glanced at the screen, a huge, red GAME OVER displaying across the screen. He frowned, "What _are_ you playing?" he asked, kneeling next to the Brit and resting his chin on his knees, glancing between the screen and his sceptical expression.

                "It's called The Impossible Quiz," he grit out, "And I'm seriously considering throwing my computer out the window."

                Francis just chuckled, "Why do you keep playing if you hate it so much?"

                "Because I need _something_ editable," He ran his hand through his hair, "Or else I'm left with a four minute video."

                Francis watched him sip daintily at his tea for a moment, the tension evident in every tiny movement he made, "This is why I vlog." He said wisely.

                Arthur just scowled at him.

                Francis bit his lip in amusement, before standing and giving him a peck on the cheek, "Finish up and then I'll give you a massage," he said, flitting around the chair, leaning down to wrap his arms around him from behind and kissing down his jaw, noting away the slight smile that played across Arthur's lips for future reference.

                Arthur hummed contentedly, turning his head and placing a kiss on what was probably supposed to be Francis' lips but ended up being his nose, he played it off well though, "And a bath?" he said twisting his fingers through the long hair that Francis knew he adored no matter how many times he denied it.

                "A massage _in_ the bath." He replied, a light smirk playing on his lips.

                Arthur's lips quirked, as he pulled Francis into a real kiss. It lingered for a moment before he pulled away, "I'll just sign off and then I'll meet you in there," he said, sighing through his nose.

                Francis stood and headed for the door, "I'll run the bath, I expect you to be no more than five minutes, _d'accord_?"  

                Arthur just replaced his headphones and turned back to the camera, signalling that it was time for him to go. He just sighed and closed the door, making a mental note to not let Arthur play so called 'rage games' again for a while.


	2. Make-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of this... Whatever this is... 
> 
> Anyway, so in this AU Francis' Channel is really a mishmash of wherever his mind takes him that day, (It's my headcannon that Francis is super driven by random inspiration, and has a new passion every other week) so sometimes it's days in the life, sometimes it's deep and controversial talks, sometimes it's fashion tips, sometimes it's him painting, sometimes it's him cooking and sometimes it's just him filming Arthur doing stupid things around the flat. Arthur doesn't understand how he has so many fans, what with how inconsistent his channel is, but he has a sneaking suspicion, only an inkling, mind you, that it's because he's really rather attractive (Well, if the comments on his 'Arthur and Francis Play' series are anything to go by) Not that he's jealous at all... or bitter... Certainly not.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Bonjour Mes Petites Lapins! Welcome to the 'Boyfriend Does My Make-up' tag!"

                "Why did I agree to this?"

                "I know for a fact you used to wear it!"

                "Eyeliner doesn't count!"

                "Not how you applied it."

                Arthur just levelled a frown at the now giggling Francis next to him, who seemed to be desperately trying to hold in a snort. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, "Let's just get this over with."

                "Great!" Francis grinned, "Now, if you don't know how this tag goes, Arthur here is given all the make-up I own and pretty much told to go wild."

                "So I can do anything?" Arthur smirked.

                "Within reason." Francis added quickly, giving Arthur a pointed look that didn't seem to do anything but make his feral grin wider.

                "Well then," Arthur cooed, picking up the nearest bottle and shaking it threateningly, "Let's get started shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                The pair's raucous laughter was all that could be heard anymore. Each time they managed to calm down Arthur would look back up at Francis and burst out again, dragging the Frenchman with him.

                "I'm crying." Francis choked, wiping his eyes with a massive grin.

                "No, no!" Arthur began, before another stream of laughter consumed him, "No, you'll smudge your-" he tried to say, gesturing at Francis' face, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

                "I can't believe you-"

                "You told me to go wild!"

                "I said within reason!"

                "I think it's totally reasonable!"

                It wasn't. It was ridiculous. But that didn't matter, because laughter he got from Francis now was entirely worth the chastising he'd get when the camera turned off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "This isn't coming off." Francis bemoaned in a deliberate tone that told Arthur that the message was meant for him, and only him.

                Arthur bit his lip to hide a smile as he peeked his head into the bathroom, and was met with Francis' glaring blue eyes through both the mirror, and several layers of eyeliner, eye shadow, and lipstick. "I'm sure it will come off eventually, my dear," he said, with as straight a face as he could manage, "And I'm not going to say you brought this on yourself, but..." he left the sentence hanging, letting Francis' expression darken at the implications of his silence.

                It was at this point that Francis turned his attention back to his reflection, muttering to himself in French too low for Arthur to try to translate, but he was sure he heard more than a few swear words, coupled with something he vaguely translated into "Stupid Englishman... No boundaries..."

                "Am I safe in my assumption that I'll be on the couch tonight?" Arthur asked, cutting off Francis' tirade.

                The Frenchman turned around, sighing heavily, "No," he said, running a hand through his hair and dislodging a few strands from the ponytail it was tied in, "I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch."

                Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

                "Oui, it made for a good video once it's edited, I'm sure. So, no, Arthur, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch." He made a strange expression, somewhere between a smile and a scowl, which came out as a sort of grimace.

                Arthur smiled slightly and slinked over to him, "If it makes you feel any better," he said, tucking the stray strands of hair from Francis' face, "You look gorgeous even covered in a few layers of smeared eyeliner."

                Francis chuckled, wrapping his arms around Arthur neck and smiled dryly, "Perhaps, you're not sleeping on the couch," he said, leaning close enough to rub their noses together, "But I'm still not sleeping with you tonight."

                And with that, he pushed Arthur back, turned around, and resumed the removal of the makeup.

                Arthur sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he retreated from the room. _Well,_ he supposed, _I deserved that._


	3. Minecraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am literally posting these as I finish them, and I'll continue to do so until it's either too late or I lose inspiration.
> 
> Arthur's channel is mostly gaming, all kinds of things really, if the fans request it, he'll play it, so most of the time he ends up playing games that make him want to tear his hair out, although he will sometimes indulge in a game for himself. He does a lot of collaborations with other Youtubers, like 'ThatAmericanHero', Alfred, whom he has a friendly rivalry with that the fans just eat up, 'MapleFlavouredMooseJaw', Matthew, is often there too, since he and Alfred run their own channel together 'Amerinadian Gaming'. Arthur has a similar rivalry with 'BruceTheKoala', Jett, and they are currently in the middle of a prank war, known as 'Pommie vs Aussie'. (Think of their respective styles of video like Pewdiepie, or Markiplier for Arthur and Jett, and the Game Grumps for Al and Mattie. Damn I'm original) 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Oi! Limey!" called Arthur's teammate, "Can I get some backup over here?"

                "Just give me a minute you bloody Yank," Arthur growled back, "I have my own problems!"

                Specifically it was a large group of what appeared to be mutant spiders -because there was no way _normal_ spiders dealt _that_ much damage in _this_ much armour- which had been triggered when he'd opened a chest with nothing in it. This ruddy game was going to be the death of him, he was sure, and not in the good way either.

                "Where are you Al?" asked the third member of their current party, "I can help you out."

                "I'm in that weird ass room, the door closed behind me and a wither spawned!" Alfred moaned, giving a highpitched -too high pitched, really, for an almost twenty year old man- yelp, "Jesus Christ! Mattie help me!"

                "Yeah, yeah," Matthew grumbled, "I'll find a pickaxe and dig you out of there, just hold out for a bit, will you?"

                "I'm not making any promises." He replied theatrically, "If I die, I want you to know-"

                "Oh belt up, Yank, you'll be fine."

                "I feel like bickering isn't going to help..."

                "Screw you, Limey! You're no longer in my will."

                "I mean, I'm not an expert, but..."

                "Your will consists of action figures and coupons to McDonalds."

                "We could complete this a lot faster if you just..."

                "Yeah well, yours consists of tea and books older than the pope."

                "Worked together."

                Collab videos between 'FlyingMintBunny', 'ThatAmericanHero', and 'MapleFlavouredMooseJaw', often went like this. More bickering than actual progress, and more often than not many, many deaths. The fans didn't seem to mind though, in fact they seemed to practically eat it up, which is why the collabs happened as frequently as they did.

                Their bickering was abruptly halted by the arrival of someone else on the server, the words _" **BrucetheKoala** has joined the game"_ popping up in the bottom and making them all take a double take.

                "What is he doing?" Arthur asked, more baffled than angry.

                _" **BrucetheKoala** Hey Pommie! Just wanted to fuck with your video!"_

"Wait," Arthur frowned, "What is he-"

                _" **FlyingMintBunny** died"_

                "What the fuck!" Arthur screeched at the death screen as the crackling of the thunder sound effect and his teammates laughter met him through his headphones.

                He clicked respawn, gritting his teeth, and found himself on fire rather instantly, up to his neck in lava. "What the-"

_" **FlyingMintBunny** tried to swim in lava"_

                The laughter doubled.

                _" **FlyingMintBunny** JETT!"_

_" **FlyingMintBunny** tried to swim in lava"_

                And doubled again.

                _" **FlyingMintBunny** FOR FUCKS SAKE!"_

_" **FlyingMintBunny** tried to swim in lava"_

    Alfred was wheezing, and Arthur was fairly sure he heard someone fall over on the other end of the call.

                _" **BrucetheKoala** See ya Pommie ;)"_

_" **FlyingMintBunny** JETT!"_

_" **FlyingMintBunny** tried to swim in lava"_

_" **BrucetheKoala** has left the game"_


	4. Twister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of this madness, what is this?
> 
> So Gilbert's is a Vlogging channel, like Francis', called 'DasGilbird', I think of it very much like a Jenna Marbles meets Nigahiga type deal. He uses his Brother, Ludwig, in a lot of his videos, and his friends, Roderich and Elizabetha, in some of the more sketchy ones (TBH it's mostly just him fucking about though).  
> Antonio runs a cooking channel, 'The Tomato Gang', with his girlfriend, Emma, his Best Friend/Pseudo Little Brother Lovino, and Emma's Brother, Jan (Although Jan just does behind the scenes) They're rather popular, and do a lot of dishes from all over really (But with a lot of tomatoes, bet you didn't see that coming)  
> Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio were childhood friends, but all moved to separate countries for university, they kept in touch though, and now they do Collabs whenever possible, their fans call them the 'Bad Friends Trio'.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

"Hallo my birdies!" Gilbert called into the camera, flashing a giant grin, "We're gonna be doing something a little different today!"

                He paused a moment, "Y'see, it happens to be my birthday in a few days, so I have some guests here to do a video with me."

                Into the side of the frame popped two faces, with simultaneous calls of "Bonjour!" and "Hola!"

                "That's right, they came all the way to Germany just for the awesome me!"

                "We wouldn't miss your birthday for the world!" Francis cooed.

                "Not when Gil has promised to buy the drinks!" Antonio added, earning him a laugh from off camera.

                "Anyway," Gilbert said, narrowing his eyes at his chuckling Spanish friend, "We thought we'd mix it up for today, since there are a few of us here, so..."

                They all stepped out of frame, allowing the camera to focus on the twister mat that lay on the floor behind them.

                "Let's play twister."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Ten minutes later they were quite successfully tangled up on the mat. Gilberts brother, and appointed judge and games master was just laughing at them.

                "Antonio," he wheezed, "Left foot. Green."

                "Ok, I'm flexible, but I don't think that's possible." He said, turning his head in an attempt to see any place to put his foot that didn't involve him bending double.

                "You can chicken out if you want." Gilbert taunted, bending to see around where Francis' face sat on Antonio's behind to properly see his frowning friend.

                "I'm not sure I can." He replied, "If I try to get out of here then we all go." He sighed and began to shuffle his foot until it reached a green. "Ok," he groaned, "Francis' turn."

                "Francis," Ludwig said, waiting for the spinner to stop, "Right foot. Yellow."

                "That's not fair, his right foot is already on a yellow," Gilbert moaned, "Spin again!"

                "Non, non, mon ami, il ne peut pas." Francis replied, an easy smirk on his face, "It's the rules of the game, your turn."

                Ludwig just smirked at his brother's stuck out tongue and spun the spinner again, "Right hand. Red."

                "Fick mich! You can't be serious!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Francis arrived home to the dulcet tones of one of the Beatles' slower songs, and he smiled softly, hanging up his coat and heading for the living room.

                Arthur was curled up on their largest sofa, the blanket that Francis had bought on their last trip to Italy wrapped around him and his hair a charmingly scruffy mass atop his head. He smiled at his Boyfriend's sleeping face, leaning down to kiss his forehead, "Did you really miss me that much?" he asked, flipping the man's hair from his eyes.

                "'Course n't." Arthur mumbled, cracking open his eyes just a little, still hazy with sleep.

                Francis just hummed doubtfully, rubbing a finger over Arthur' freckled cheek. "You're cute when you're half asleep." He mused.

                Arthur just leaned forward to peck him on the lips, "W'sh y'din't leave f'r s'long," he mumbled, closing his eyes and enjoying Francis' soft touches.

                Francis chuckled, "I thought you said you didn't miss me."

                "Din't." He mumbled, "N'ver said tha'."

                Francis smiled softly, "So you did miss me."

                "Mmmn, 'lil bit." He opened his eyes again, wiping the sleep from them before continuing, "The flat's empty without you."

                "Don't tell me you just sulked the whole time I was gone." Francis teased with a light chuckle.

                "No," Arthur replied lazily, letting a hand peek out from the blanket to play with Francis' hair, "Not the _whole_ time." He smiled, "How was Gilbert's birthday?"

                "I'm still recovering," Francis laughed, "I don't remember most of it. I wish you'd come too."

                "You know why I couldn't."

                Francis hummed in acknowledgement.

                "I saw the video though." Arthur smirked, "Who knew you were so flexible."

                Francis raised an eyebrow at him, "What're you implying?"

                Arthur's arms snaked their way around Francis' neck, "Implying?" he asked with a look of mock innocence, "I was just commenting on the fact that you seem to be able to get into the darnedest positions."

                "And that holds no implications?"

                Arthur began kissing down his jaw, "None. I don't know what would give you such an idea."

                Francis chuckled, "So you definitely weren't saying that you wanted to see me in those positions again?"

                Arthurs lips had reached his neck now, and were in the process of giving him a rather impressive hickey, "What are you talking about? I would never."

                Francis was about to reply when he felt Arthur's teeth sink into his neck, he groaned, a lazy smile coming to his lips, "Who knew leaving you alone for a week would turn you into a sex fiend."

                Arthur just licked the bite before leaving Francis' neck entirely, and leaning close to his lips, "I haven't the foggiest what you mean."


	5. Charity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on fire really...
> 
> In case you didn't realize, Gabriel is Portugal, Antonio's brother, who has little to do with Youtube, but ended up going to the charity event because he's a big softie for his little brother (Allow me my headcannons goddammit!)  
> Arthur knows Gabriel because when he was younger his family hosted him as an exchange student, the two grew extremely close. The, at the time, fifteen year old Gabriel acting like an older brother to the ten year old Arthur, and Arthur looked up to him as such (Since his other brother's were arseholes, his words, not mine) and even when Gabriel had to go home they kept in touch, and remain good friends to this day.  
> When they found out that Francis and Antonio were also best friends, they were a little baffled at how small the world could be, but then again, who wouldn't be?
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Hey Francis!" Arthur called, walking into the living room where Francis was setting up the camera. "Oh," he said, stopping, "Are you recording? It can wait."

                Francis just shook his head and smiled, "Not yet, what was it?"

                Arthur held up his phone, "Alfred wants to Skype."

                Francis frowned, "Did he say why?"

                Arthur just shook his head, "No, he just said that he wanted us to call him as soon as we have the chance."

                Francis stuck out his tongue a little, glancing at his equipment, "We'll have to make it quick." He said, "I don't want to lose the light."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Dudes, you have no idea how pumped I am right now!" Alfred said as soon as he picked up, his massive smile lighting up the screen.

                "No," Francis chuckled, "We don't. What is it that's got you so excited?"

                "Ok, so here's the deal," he said excitedly, "I'm teaming up with a bunch of other Youtubers and we're gonna do this whole charity event over here in The States." He paused, for what appeared to be effect, "Soooo..." He went on, "I'm inviting both of you to take part! You'll have to pay for your own flights, but we've rented out an entire hotel so you don't need to worry about all that. It's in four months, here, in New York, and it would be so great if you could come, you have no idea!"

                The two men on the other side of the screen smiled brightly at the blonde's enthusiasm, "We would love to Alfred!" Francis cooed happily, making the already million-watt smile on Alfred's face light up even more.

                "Really?" he cheered, "No way this is gonna be so awesome! We're gonna have..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "It was so great to meet you girls," Francis cooed, smiling charmingly at the small group girls that Arthur assumed to be in their mid-teens.

                He just scowled at them from his place leaning on the wall a small ways away. They didn't notice him, of course, he made sure of that. The _last_ thing he wanted was _Francis'_ fans bothering him. Now don't get him wrong, he was grateful for every fan and every bit of support he got, but that didn't mean he appreciated girls he'd never met before prying into his personal life, and he meant _personal_ life. He honestly could not fathom their reasoning for wanting to know about their private lives, in his opinion, what happens in the bedroom... or sofa... or kitchen counter... or, once, memorably in the back of an almost completely empty cinema... should bloody well stay there! Not that Francis seemed to share his views.

                Yeah, well, there is a difference between being a prude and having a lick of self respect, _Francis_.

                So wrapped up in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice someone come up beside him. "Hey Artie," they said, making Arthur practically leap out of his skin.

                He turned, the scruffy brown ponytail and amused smile of one of Arthur's oldest friends filling his vision. "Gabriel!" he exclaimed happily, pulling him into a tight hug, "I didn't know you were coming!"

                Gabriel chuckled, holding Arthur out at arms length to better see his face, "'Tonio forced me," he replied, "Said something about supporting him on his first trip to the US."

                Arthur chuckled, "The git would pull something like that, wouldn't he?"

                Gabriel just rolled his eyes, "He has his girlfriend and Lovino here with him, I don't see why he needs me."

                "While that is true, I'm glad you're here!" Arthur said, clapping him on the back, "It seems like years since we last saw each other!"

                "You're right!" he cheered, throwing an arm over Arthur's shoulder and leading him away from the gaggle of Fangirls -and boys Arthur noted sceptically- still surrounding Francis, "Let's go get a coffee and catch up!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "'ave fun today?" Francis asked blearily, his accent thick with sleep, as he glanced up from the bed to the silhouette of Arthur creeping through the room.

                "Shit, sorry, did I wake you?" he stage whispered, and Francis couldn't see his face, but he was sure it was funny so he let out a short breath of laughter from his nose.

                "Yes." He replied, "But I don't mind, I'd hoped I'd see you again today."

                Arthur chuckled, sitting on the side of the bed, presumably to remove his shoes. Francis rolled over, wrapping his arms around Arthur's hips, and nuzzling into the soft jumper that he'd bought for him a few months earlier.

                "What got you so cuddly?" Arthur laughed, petting Francis' head lightly.

                "You spent all day with Gabriel," he mumbled into the jumper, "I'm feeling abandoned."

                "You were busy with your fans, and my meet and greet wasn't for another hour."

                "Could have met me afterwards."

                "I see you every day. I only get to see Gabriel every so often."

                "I know."

                "Hey," Arthur said, pulling back Francis' hair from his face, making Francis re-open is eyes and blink sleepily at him, "I know what you're thinking and I love you, you tosser."

                Francis smiled at what little he could see of Arthur, "Mmmn, I love you too." He mumbled.

                Arthur just chuckled and attempted to remove himself from the vices that Francis' arms had become, "Francis, my dear, I've got to get changed."

                Francis just grumbled and held him tighter "Non."

                "Francis...

                "Non."

                Arthur just let his weight fall back, and honestly, the strangled screech was entirely worth the cuff to his ear.


	6. Ducks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one tonight I think. 
> 
> This one is SUPER fluffy at the end, oh my god I'm a sap.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Mornin' Mint Bunnies!" Arthur said, saluting the camera, "And-"

                "Welcome to Arthur and Francis Play!" Francis said, sliding into the frame and effectively cutting off Arthur's practiced intro.

                Arthur elbowed him in the side, and continued, ignoring the grumbling from beside him, "Today we're going to play a little something that I think you'll get a kick out of," he paused for a moment to glance sidelong at Francis with a mischievous grin, "Or, at the very least, I will."

                "You still haven't told me what we're playing." Francis grumbled.

                Arthur just waved a hand dismissively, the smile remaining on his face. Francis grimaced, in his experience, that smile had never meant anything good for him.

                Arthur clicked a few times on the screen and a game began to boot up, "Voila!" he said happily, when it finally loaded.

                "What's Five Nights at Freddie's?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Where is the Duck?" Francis screeched, as he flicked through the cameras at a speed which was quite frankly hilarious, "Arthur I can't find the duck!"

                "She's probably in the kitchen," Arthur chuckled, "And stop wasting your power, it's four am and you only have twelve percent left."

                "To hell with your power, I can't find the stupid duck!"

                "I'm pretty sure she's a chicken."

                "To hell with your chicken!"

                Another screech, "The bear's outside the door!" He put down the camera and closed the door, curling his legs up to his chest, whimpering like a dog.

                "You can't waste power like that, you'll end up draining it all."

                "I don't care! I'm not lifting that door until he leaves!" he groaned as he checked the camera to find him still there, "Make him leave!"

                Arthur, at this point was trying to hold in his laughter, his face turning bright red with his effort.

                Then the power went out, "Merde!" Francis whined, covering his eyes, "Tell me when it's over!"

                Then the music started, "Arthur!"

                "What?" Arthur was honestly trying to sound concerned, but it's hard when you're desperately trying to hold in your laughter.

                "Just put me out of my misery!" he moaned, "Make the bear j-AAAHHHHHHHH!"

                The screech from the screen was the last straw, and Francis jerked backwards, tipping over his chair and opening the flood gates for Arthur's laughter.

                "Are you okay?" he asked through his laughter, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

                "Va-t'en, horrible Anglais!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "I hate you."

                "Come on, it was funny."

                "I can never look at an animatronic animal again."

                Arthur bit his lip a little guiltily, sitting down next to where Francis was curled up on the sofa, "I'm sorry, ok?" he said, placing a hand on his thigh and rubbing his thumb gently back and forth, "But you've got to at least admit it was a little funny."

                Francis just grumbled something unintelligible into the cushions.

                "Francis?"

                Another unintelligible mumble.

                "Francis."

                When no response came, Arthur just sighed, "Here, I'll make it up to you," he said, making Francis turn his head just enough to reveal one blue eye, "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow, somewhere fancy, you can pick if you want, and we'll go for a walk in that shitty park down the road, and I'll buy you flowers, and then we can come home and cuddle and watch whatever god-awful rom-com you pick out and I'll even pretend to enjoy it, and-"

                He was cut off abruptly by Francis' lips on his, falling into it quickly and tangling his fingers in Francis' hair. It was a slow kiss, lazy and open-mouthed, but without much tongue and so unlike the kisses they shared when they first started dating. These were Arthur's favourite kisses, though. They weren't there to seduce, or entice, just to convey love without the use of words, and oh, he'd be damned if he didn't feel the love in those soft, delicious lips.

                When Francis pulled away Arthur was breathless, and kept his eyes closed a moment after just to savour the feeling, making Francis chuckle as he ran his hands down Arthur's arms.

                "You're hopeless." He said, the goofy smile of a man stupidly in love on his face. He shook his head, laughing lightly, "Absolutely hopeless."

                Then he sighed and pressed their lips together again briefly, "I love you, you ridiculous Englishman."

                Arthur simply smiled and brought their mouths together again, content to just let their lips do the talking for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Va-t'en, horrible Anglais! - Go away, you horrid Englishman!
> 
> I'm adding the translation because I recently re-read this and realized my grammar was off, I think, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone while I correct it...


	7. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new day, a new drabble.
> 
> This one I spat out in a little over twenty minutes.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                Francis was finding it hard to be silent.

                He wasn't entirely sure how he hadn't given himself away yet, but he was ever so grateful.

                Arthur was having a nostalgia day, it seemed. Of when he was nineteen and had green hair to go with his piercings and tattoos that he still hadn't removed, blasting music that Francis could only label as god-awful screaming and _is that supposed to be a guitar?_ And was dancing -he used 'dancing' loosely, mind you, it more like a mixture of jumping, flailing limbs, and head banging- around the living room, whilst screaming along with it.

                It was when he started with the air guitar that he found himself no longer able to control himself. Francis let himself laugh, and Arthur caught sight of him and the camera he had pointed at him.

                The scowl he received? Hardly surprising.

                What happened next did surprise him though.

                He kept going.

                But now he sang at the camera, and danced around even harder, gesturing for Francis to join him.

                Francis stared at the ridiculous punk in front of him for a moment, at the huge smile on his face and the way his hands played air guitar as if the instrument was actually in his hands, and he let himself let out one another laugh as he placed the still recording camera on the coffee table and launched himself over the sofa.

                He jumped into Arthur's arms, laughing happily at the 'oof' his impact caused, grabbing Arthur's hands and lifting them up to jump along with the god-awful racket that his boyfriend called music.

                Arthur just spun him around, screeching along with the words that Francis couldn't understand over the din of the drums and the wail of the guitar, playing the beats with his arms and  chords with his fingers.

                Francis spun with him, flailing his limbs about like he hadn't taken ballet for a good portion of his life, and banging his head like he hadn't spent almost an hour on his hair that morning.

                They stayed like this until the song ended, by which time they were panting and sweating and smiling like they'd just won the lottery. Francis laughed, letting his arms fall loosely over Arthur's shoulders and his forehead rest against Arthur's own. He closed his eyes, letting a single laugh out through his heavy breaths.

                "I hate your music." He said simply, reopening his eyes to meet Arthur's smirk.

                Arthur leant in a little, pressing their noses together, "You have no taste." He replied, "My music is bloody brilliant."

                Francis just made a sceptical noise in the back of his throat, leaning down to press his face into the crook of Arthur's neck, always a little awkward, since they were the same height, but Francis liked to feel held.

                The new song that formed the background to their little moment was hardly romantic, although Francis did have to admit that it was at the very least _better_ than what they'd just been dancing to. It was still at top volume and the whole scene was so artistically juxtaposed with their soft embrace that Francis couldn't help but give a slight chuckle.

                "What?" Arthur asked, and Francis could hear the smile in his voice.

                "We're a strange couple."

                Arthur let out a breath of laughter through his nose, "Yeah," he said musingly, "We are."


	8. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more for tonight.
> 
> Oops, this one is set four years before the usual timeline. Arthur is nineteen and Francis is twenty-two, and they both go to YouTube gathering in London.  
> Alistair (Scotland), Arthur's older brother, they used to live together in a shitty flat they split rent on with their other brother, Rhys (Wales), but when Francis moved to England, Arthur moved out and into a nicer flat with him.  
> Saanvi (Fem!India, because I think India should have been a woman, so I'm going to write her as a woman in ineffectual protest! Also the name is literally the first one that comes up for popular girls baby names in India, 'cause I'm uncreative) Is Arthur's ex-girlfriend, who left him after claiming that he was too controlling, Arthur denies it to this day.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

"Artie?" said a voice from behind the green-haired, piercing filled, man in front of his sticker-covered monstrosity of a laptop, making him jump and slam down the screen.

                "What?" he snapped, scowling lowly at the ginger intruder.

                "Anyone would think you were watching porn in here, what with how shifty you're being," said Arthur's elder brother, a smug kind of smile on his lips, "Turns out you're just watching that pretty-boy Youtuber."

                Arthur seemed to grapple with what to say for a moment, his mouth flopping open and closed a few times, knowing full well he'd been caught red-handed.

                "I'll be honest, when you 'walk of shamed' back from the gathering two days ago, I didn't think you'd go home and stalk the guy."

                "I'm not-" he began, but was quickly cut off by Alistair's deep laugh.

                "Did you two even say two words to each other?"

                "Well..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Are you drunk enough to fall into the bed of a complete stranger?" The voice caught Arthur off guard, but he showed no signs of it, just taking a sip of his beer, cheap shit really, god-awful if he was being honest, but he wasn't _that_ successful, and was still lived mostly off of his day-job. The voice sounded French, if he had to guess, and really, it wasn't much of a guess, but the inflection of the words had him narrowing his eyes.

                "Depends if the stranger is hot." He replied easily.

                "Well," the stranger continued, a smirk in his voice, "Do I measure up?"

                That's when Arthur turned, and dear sweet merciful lord, _did he ever_...

                The man looked like some kind of Calvin Klein model.

                But he couldn't let him know that.

                He shrugged, the corners of his lips twisting up, and nodded, "You'll do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Is that it?"

                "No!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Whatever he was cuddled up with smelled entirely too good.

                Roses, he thought, but he wasn't a gardener, and couldn't really tell a daisy from a sunflower.

                "Awake yet, little bunny?"

                Arthur frowned.

                _Eugh,_ that voice was entirely too _French_ for this early in the morning.

                That's when he remembered.

                Searing lips, roaming hands, and _oh god_...

                "Little Bunny?" he asked nervously.

                "Oui, that's you, right? Flying Mint Bunny."

                He groaned, rolling over and pulling the blankets over his head, rousing a chuckle from above him.

                "I'll take that as a yes."

                "Where are we?"

                "My hotel room."

                "Where's that?"

                "London...?"

                "Helpful." He replied, removing the blankets from his head so he could glare at the dishevelled Frenchman.

                Arthur felt rather proud of himself in that moment, glancing over what he could see of the man in front of him. Several hickeys were blooming on his shoulders and neck, scratch marks down his chest and a light bruise on the one hip he could see, and while he couldn't be sure that they were all him -especially considering the manner in which he was greeted in the bar- he couldn't help but feel a little smug.

                He rolled over and out of bed, searching around the room for his clothes.

                "Leaving already?" the Frenchman asked amusedly.

                "What were you expecting?" he asked, "While I will admit that you were a bloody good shag, I'm not entirely sure that one night stands are supposed to hang around and have morning tea."

                The Frenchman just shrugged and laid back in the bed, allowing Arthur to gather his things.

                Just as he was about to leave, the Frenchman spoke up again, "I really did love your tongue piercing by the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Is that everything?"

                "Yes- well..."

                "Spit it out! I haven't got all bloody day to deal with your emotional constipation!"

                Arthur scowled at him briefly, but continued, "He gave me his number."

                "And you haven't called?"

                "Why would I call?"

                "You said he was a good shag!"

                "So!?"

                "I swear, this is why Saanvi broke up with you."

                "That has nothing to do with this!"

                Alistair walked up to him then, grabbing Arthur's phone from his desk and pushing it against his chest, "Call the ruddy Frenchman."

                And then he left.

                Arthur glared at his phone for a moment, as if it had just insulted his taste in drapes, or perhaps commented that his casserole was more than just crispy.

                But it hadn't.

                So he called the ruddy Frenchman.


	9. Chivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am quite frankly on a roll with these.
> 
> Arthur goes out to the pub a lot without Francis, since Arthur really loves the atmosphere of a good pub, and Francis doesn't really share his views. They used to go together relatively often when they first started dating, but as time went on, Francis stopped going, not that Arthur minded, a lot less fights happened between them when they weren't cheering for opposite football teams (Which Arthur is sure happened only because Francis wanted to irritate him, there is no way that he can support every single team that has ever played Manchester United).  
> Francis tends to switch back to french when he's stressed or worried... or other... *ahem* times... this irritates Arthur, whose study of the language consists of the three years he was forced to take back when he was in his early teens and has mostly forgotten. Though over time he's memorized certain words, he is nowhere near good enough to pick out a whole sentence, not when Francis is speaking fast enough to give a small child a headache.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Arthur?" Francis gasped as he opened the front door to his and Arthur's flat.

                Arthur just smiled sheepishly through his dripping nose, "I'm fine, I just-"

                "Non tu n'est pas! Qu'est-ce qui t'est arrivé? Attends-ici." Francis flustered, dragging the Brit inside and depositing him on the sofa before running off to get some kitchen roll and a first-aid kit.

                "I may have done several years of mandatory French, but I'm not _that_ good." Arthur said as Francis dabbed at his nose, "You're going to have to translate that."

                Francis just frowned, "Est-il trop demander que toi ne pas te blesser?"

                "Are you angry?" Arthur sighed, then frowned, "No, that was a stupid question, of course you're angry." Arthur reached up to hold the wad of towels to his nose, while Francis reached inside the first aid kit without a word, "I'm sorry."

                "What happened?" Francis sighed, finally looking up.

                "I was at the pub, some guy was being creepy with a girl, I told him to leave her alone, he told me to mind my own business, I..." he trailed off, making Francis raise an eyebrow.

                "You told him something along the lines of 'not in a million years', but with more swearing, which he took as a hit to his fragile masculinity, at which point, he punched you in the face." Francis filled in the gap expectantly.

                "I gave the bastard a run for his money though!" Arthur added, "He'll have a lovely shiner by morning. Ran away with his tail between his legs."

                Francis smiled slightly, replacing the saturated tissue with a fresh one, "I'm sure you did."

                "I waited with the girl until she could get a taxi too."

                "A real knight in shining armour."                 

                "My nose was actually fine until I was about halfway home. It didn't start bleeding until I sneezed."

                Francis hummed in acknowledgement, "You should have done what I usually do in situations like that."

                "And what's that?"

                "Flirt with _them_." Francis said, smirking right at Arthur, "Their delicate heterosexuality can't take it, they'll usually run away."

                Arthur just frowned, "Not even you could flirt with _that_ ugly fucker."

                Francis chuckled, but shrugged, "To save a lovely lady? I'm sure I could manage."

                "Don't you ever worry about bisexuality?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Y'know, from one bisexual to another."

                "No, because once the lady has escaped you get to turn them down yourself." Francis' smile was entirely too self-satisfied, it made Arthur chuckle, though immediately he felt the waves of nausea approaching.

                He held his head, clearly _that_ was a mistake, "Eugh, I feel dizzy."

                Francis frowned, "I'll get you some water."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non tu n'est pas! Qu'est-ce qui t'est arrivé? Attends-ici. - No you're not! What happened to you? Wait here.
> 
> Est-il trop demander que toi ne pas te blesser? - Is it too much to ask that you don't hurt yourself?
> 
> My French is okay but I don't claim to be fluent, let me know if any of this grammar is shit.


	10. Champagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this one.
> 
> I was going to write about their first date up here, but I'm not sure if I'm actually gonna write a drabble for it... It's certainly a dilemma. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                Francis giggled.

                Perhaps he _had_ had a little too much champagne...

                Not that he much cared, not when he was still riding the high from their last round.

                He rolled his neck so that he could look at Arthur's face, relaxed and just as blissful as he was sure his own was. He sighed, letting his hand wander slowly up and down Arthur's side.

                "If you don't stop writing 'I love you' with your finger I think I might just have to have you again." He said lazily.

                Francis hummed happily, "Then why would I stop?"

                "Because it's far too soon to fulfil my end of the threat."

                "It's hardly a threat, _Lapin_."

                "I regret ever calling my channel that."

                "Why? It's cute."

                Arthur hummed sceptically.

                "This was much nicer than our first date." Francis said musingly after a few moments of silence.

                Arthur chuckled, "I would hope I'd learned _something_ about how to impress you in the last four years."

                "It wouldn't have been so bad if we had been in France."

                "How so?" Arthur raised a sceptical eyebrow, glancing down at Francis for a moment.

                "We would have been in France."

                Laying his head back against the bed, Arthur sighed, "We're in France now, aren't we?"

                "Oui, nous sommes..." He breathed, rolling over so he was lying flush on Arthur's chest. He smiled brightly, leaning forward so he could press their lips together for a brief second, "We're in France, in a hotel room you probably spent way too much on, drinking champagne that you probably spent too long choosing, after eating dinner in a place where they definitely _did not_ speak English, and you even attempted to speak in French -which was atrocious but endearing nonetheless. And all of it was just for me," his smile was small and soft now, his fingers running slowly through Arthur's sex-scruffy hair, "I feel utterly pampered."

                Arthur chuckled, smirking just a little, "It's our anniversary, I couldn't possibly do anything less for my little princess."

                Francis flicked him in his temple, making him laugh again, an odd feeling against Francis' chest, but not at all unwelcome. "I was trying to be romantic."

                Arthur just bit his lip and flipped them.

                Where that piece of silk came from, Francis wasn't sure, but in a matter of seconds it was tied around his wrists and onto the headboard.

                "Romance time is over." Arthur smirked, crawling down Francis' body a little to nip at his collarbone, "We have all night and another bottle of champagne, and I don't intend to waste either of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oui, nous sommes, - Yes, we are,
> 
> Y'know, just in case of reasons... I dunno.


	11. Glitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more tonight.
> 
> This is a continuation of sorts of the Prank-war from the... third drabble? Yeah, the third one, Minecraft. 'Pommie vs Aussie' will never cease to amuse me.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

Skype.

                Why the fuck was someone calling them on Skype at...

                Arthur groaned and peered at the clock beside their bed.

                ...Three-bloody-twenty-four in the morning!

                That's when something hit him, and from beside him came a grumble which sounded rather like, "You get it, I'm not moving."

                Arthur groaned again and rolled out of the bed and toward the computer.

                He didn't even have time to be irritable, because as soon as the call went through he got an earful of colourful Australian-accented swearing.

                "What the fuck Kirkland?" was the relatively tame end to Jett's tirade.

                "It's bloody three in the morning Jett," he said tiredly, blinking at the screen, "You're going to have to talk a little slower."

                "I don't have to say a fucking thing! Look at me!"

                It was only then that Arthur allowed his eyes to adjust to the screen long enough to get a good look at the image in front of him.

                Glitter.

                An absurd amount to glitter.

                Everywhere.

                In his hair, on his face, his clothes.

                And then Arthur started laughing.

                Uncontrollable, can't breathe properly, laughing.

                 His little surprise must have arrived.

                He had almost thought that the Australian hadn't received it, or that it had been put at the bottom of a fan-mail box and forgotten about. That inconspicuous tube full of that irremovable substance, and Arthur bet his bottom dollar on the fact that it was opened right on camera.

                Brilliant.

                "So it was you!"

                "Of course it was me!" he laughed, "That's payback! This is a prank war I am not going to lose!"

                "So you sent a glitter bomb to my fan-mail address?"

                Arthur smiled smugly, "That's right! Now go and tell your fans who the true master pranker is!"

                "This isn't over Kirkland!" Jett growled, a feral grin spreading across his sparkling face.

                "I look forward to one-upping you again."

                "Not in a million years!"

                And then he hung up.

                And Francis threw a pillow at him.

                He was quite frankly too giddy to care though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

                His sides hurt.

                Bent over double, wheezing, tears in his eyes.

                He just could not stop.

                He had watched the clip so many times now that he could exactly mouth along with everything Jett said.

                "Now for this... funny tube thingy. I don't even know what could fit in here..." A few moments of struggling to open it and it burst open, right into his face.

                Glitter over everything.

                It was rather like he had looked on the phone, but just a little worse. He looked like some kind of hilarious fairy-gone-wrong.

                He sat there for a moment, his eyes comically wide, staring at a random spot in the distance while his brain processed what had just happened.

                Then came the realization.

                "KIRKLAND!"

                And Arthur was laughing again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Francis watched as Arthur played the clip over and over, laughing harder each time he did. The coffee he was nursing was hardly consolation for the rude and early awakening, but it was strong and enough to allow him to appreciate the stupidity that was his boyfriend.

                He shook his head, a fond smile on his face.

                The man was a complete idiot.


	12. Valentine's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to get festive since I have nothing better to do with my valentines day than write about fictional couples...
> 
> This one's sappy and cheesy in every way and I'm not 100% happy with it but I wanted to put something up today so... this is what I got.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, I was at a hockey game last night and there was a player called Kirkland, and he was number freaking 23! I'm serious, you can't make this shit up! I think I may have an issue... Everywhere I go Hetalia is there! I can't escape... my brain won't let me.
> 
> Enjoy;)

                "Mornin' Mint Bunnies! I'm doing a vlog today, since it's been a while since I did anything different on this channel." The camera was in Francis' usual place in the living room, Arthur sitting on the couch, and Francis sitting beside him, "And since it's Valentine's day, I thought I'd get Francis in here,"

                "Bonjour!"

                "And we'd answer your 'Valentine's-themed' Twitter questions. So let's get started, shall we."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "First question, is from @mintinglindtbunnies and they ask, ' _Is there a reason @FlyingMintBunny always has bedroom hair?'_ Well, dear viewer-"

                "That's it. I'm picking the questions from now on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "@winterfreshrabbit says, ' _PILLOW FIGHT!'_ "

                Francis didn't even have time to react before the pillow connected with his face. Arthur chuckled at the dumbfounded expression on his face, but couldn't enjoy it for long, because only a few moments later there was a pillow crashing into his own face.

                "Ah ha ha!" Francis laughed, leaping out of the way of Arthur's pillow, "You dare start a pillow fight with the Great Francis Bonnefoy!"

                "You'll go the way of Napoleon before long!"

                "Nev-oof!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Hey Francis, I think you should read this one out." Arthur said, handing his phone over.

                Francis narrowed his eyes at Arthur's neutral expression, but took the phone and glanced at the screen "@FlyingMintBun..." He turned to Arthur, a little confused, but a huge grin had spread on the other's face, as he prompted Francis to finish reading the tweet.

                "@FlyingMintBunnies says, Wi..." he stopped and dropped the phone, his hands going up to cover his mouth as he choked out a noise that couldn't really be described as human.

                He turned his head slowly, his hands shaking.

                Arthur was looking at him with the most adorably hopeful expression, a smile spread wide across his face, a box held open in his hands containing a simple band of gold. He coughed a little, his smile faltering, "Francis Louis Bonnefoy," he began, and Francis could only stare, his vision blurred with the tears he could feel falling down his cheeks, "I'm not good at all this romance bollocks and I can't promise to get any better at it, but I can promise that I'll love you for as long as I'm on this stupid little planet, and I want, more than anything, for you to say that you'll do the same." The smile was back on Arthur's face now, but small and loving and...

                "Yes!" Francis choked, nodding frantically, and pulled Arthur into the tightest hug he could manage. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" he chanted, burying his head in Arthur's neck, still nodding.

                Arthur hugged him back, so tight Francis genuinely thought they'd be fused together.

                When they finally let go, Arthur reached up to wipe the tears from Francis' cheeks, but couldn't get close before Francis grabbed his hands, "Forget that," he said, "Put the ring on, I want the ring on."

                Arthur smiled and took the ring from the box, holding it out, "I know it's simple, but I took the liberty of having it engraved, here," he bit his lip, holding it up for Francis to see.

                Francis out a choked sob at the writing inside, wiping his cheeks on his sleeve.

                _The Frog <3 His Lapin_

                He smiled, slipping the ring onto his finger and admiring it for a moment before returning his gaze to his beaming _fiancé_. He leaned forward to press their lips together, letting it linger for a moment while everything sunk in.

                "I love you, Lapin."

                "Always, Frog."


	13. Dare (Pt.1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((((Before we get started this one had very little mentions of FrUK, and if you're in it for the Fluff then this isn't the drabble for you, just wait for the next one. It's more for me to mess around and have a little fun with the characters, so if you're not into that, give this one a miss and wait for our regularly scheduled programming))))
> 
> Hiya, so I honestly don't know what's going on in this one, and I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up being long enough for a one-shot of its own, but ho hum.
> 
> Anyway, this is set at Artie and Franny's engagement party, hence why everyone is there. This first bit ended up being very NedCan-ish so sorry if you're not into that sort of thing, I was in a NedCan-ish kinda mood. I don't think I have anything else to say say so...
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "What are we? Fifteen?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow at the circle of adults in their twenties that sat on the floor around an empty vodka bottle.

                "Dude!" Alfred cheered, "C'mon, you know you love a good ol' game o' truth or dare!"

                "Scared froggy?" Arthur added, a gleam in his eye that only appeared once he'd loosened up with sufficient quantities of alcohol -he was also rather certain he'd seen him steal one of the suspicious brownies that 'The Tomato Gang' had brought with them, but that was neither here nor there.

                Francis frowned but sat down beside Arthur regardless, taking a sip of his wine and pressing a quick -but sloppy, thanks to Arthur- kiss to his fiancé's lips as he did so.

                "Great, it's a pretty regular set up, someone spins the bottle and they do a truth or dare for them, the person who gives the truth or dare has to take a shot of that wicked shit that Ivan brought with him." Alfred winked at the giant pale-haired man, making him giggle, and stifle a snort in his scarf.

                "Here's the rules," Gilbert said, pointing his bottle of beer at Francis, "The dares have to be legal and non-lethal." Francis raised an eyebrow, but let him continue, "If you think the dare is impossible then you can challenge whoever dared you, but if they succeed you have to take three shots of..." he gestured to Alfred who was holding up a bottle full of clear liquid that looked like vodka, and he would have thought it was too, if it weren't for the words 'Genuine Moonshine' scrawled across the bottle in a print that he could only assume meant to mimic those of the old west. "The wicked shit _Alfred_ brought with him."

                "Feast your eyes on what 95% alcohol looks like!" Alfred said, setting the bottle in the centre of the circle beside the empty bottle, "And hope you never have to find out how it tastes."

                "Truths have to be answered honestly, if we catch you in a lie then it's three shots of moonshine," Gilbert continued, "The last person to receive a truth or a dare spins the bottle next and gives whoever it lands on the truth or dare, got it?"

                A chorus in the affirmative signalled the start of the game.

                "Why don't one of the lucky grooms to be spin the bottle first?" Jett chuckled, taking a swig from his beer.

                "Francis should," Arthur said lazily, smirking up at Francis from his place in the man's lap that he'd slowly slipped into through the explanation of the rules, "He's nowhere _near_ drunk enough yet."

                "D'accord," He sighed and reached for the bottle, spinning it with a flick of his wrist, and taking the shot that was handed to him with another.

                "Okay Franny," Elizabeta grinned when the bottle landed on her, "Ask me anything."

                "Truth then..." Francis said, pausing for a moment to consider, "Who has the bigger penis, Roderich or Gilbert?"

                There wasn't a moment's hesitation before she said "Roddy."

                The "Hey!" that came from Gilbert in response, and the smug smile that bloomed on Roderich's lips were enough to make the entire circle chuckle.

                "I can't lie, Gil." Elizabeta shrugged.

                "And if she'd said you we all know she'd have been caught in the lie."

                "Whatever, just spin the stupid bottle."

                The circle laughed as Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest childishly, watching the bottle spin and the shot spill down Elizabeta's throat.

                "Matthew," she smiled, "Truth or dare?"

                Matthew considered this for a moment, "Dare."

                Elizabeta smirked widely, "Okay," she said wickedly, "I dare you to pour chocolate sauce on..." she glanced around for a moment, as if selecting a target, "Gi...I...Jan's, Jan's stomach, and lick it off."

                "We don't have any chocolate sauce." Francis frowned, making Elizabeta's face fall until Matthew waved his hand in dismissal, getting up from the circle.

                "I was going to suggest something else anyway." He said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small bottle.

                "What's that?" Alfred asked.

                "Maple syrup." Matthew said, kneeling in front of Jan, "Lift up your shirt then, we don't have all day." He smirked at Jan's wide eyes, gesturing with his index finger for him to lay back.

                Jan did so, pulling his shirt up to reveal his stomach and taking a deep breath in, "Make it quick," he said tensely.

                "What's wrong Jan?" Matthew asked innocently, dribbling a line of syrup from where his ribs ended to where his jeans began.

                "He's straight as a fucking rainbow, that's what's wrong." Lovino said, rolling his eyes.

                Matthew just smirked and lowered his head to suck at the syrup at the top of his stomach, making Jan bite his lip as Matthew made a series of long sucks a little further down his body, "That's not quick."

                "Maple syrup is made to be savoured," Matthew replied simply, running his tongue a little lower.

                "What's the matter bro?" Emma asked amusedly, leaning over the rapidly reddening face of her brother.

                He opened his mouth to respond, but as he did, Matthew let his tongue dip into the pool of syrup in his belly-button, and he was forced to shut it quickly, chewing on his lower lip.

                "Matthew," Arthur said, with a raised eyebrow, "Do you have to tease the man quite so much?"

                Matthew chuckled, making a noise in the affirmative as he cleaned the last of the syrup from Jan's bellybutton and moved a little lower, "These abs aren't to be wasted." he said quickly, making Jan's face enter a new shade of red that probably wasn't safe for his health.

                "He says he's straight," said Alfred with a frown, "But then he goes and does stuff like this when he's drunk."

                "When do I ever claim to be straight?" Matthew asked bemusedly through the skin of Jan's taught stomach. Alfred opened his mouth to answer but Matthew cut him off, "And if you're talking about in front of my Mom and Dad then that's completely null."

                "How so?"

                "Because there's no way they'd let a dick anywhere near their _'precious baby boy_ 's ass. It's easier to let them think I'm the one doing the fucking, if at all." Matthew sat up, having cleaned the last of Jan's stomach, licking at his sticky fingers, "That was fun," he said, as Jan desperately tried to pull himself together and calm his heated... everywhere, "We should do it again sometime."

                Jan choked a little, and Alfred cuffed Matthew around the side of the head, "Dude, I don't wanna know!"

                Matthew laughed, returning to his place and reaching for the bottle, winking at Jan as he took his shot, making Elizabeta make a strangled noise that she'd apparently been holding in through the entire ordeal.

                "Jett," he said, "Truth or dare?"

 

(To be continued...)


	14. Dare (Pt.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, the other half, the ultimate conclusion...
> 
> Yeah... so there are (Large) hints of SpUK in this chapter, because I like the pairing a little bit sue me...
> 
> So the list of Attendees is as follows: Arthur and Francis, 'Amerinadian Gaming' (Matthew and Alfred), Jett (who left his channel with his friend from New Zealand for his week of absence, something he would later regret), 'The Tomato Gang' (Antonio, Emma, Lovino, and Jan), The 'DasGilbird' Crew (Gilbert, Elizabeta and Roderich, Ludwig didn't come because he didn't want to leave the dogs), Ivan (From a channel called 'InMotherRussia' whom Arthur and Francis met during a feud with The 'DasGilbird' Crew, and invited simply because he was in the area at the time) and... I think that's it... cool beans. I didn't use these characters as much as I wanted to, with such a large and, quite frankly, ambitious cast, it was hard, as you can probably tell, to use them all and characterize them well when I did. I did my best anyhow...
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Jett," he said, "Truth or dare?"

                "Dare."

                Matthew sat back on his hands for a moment while he thought, "I dare you to put on a corset, panties, and stockings and wear them for the rest of the game."

                "Where am I supposed to ge-" Jett began, but was quickly cut off but Francis jumping up and racing toward his and Arthur's bedroom.

                "I have some!" he yelled as he disappeared inside.

                "Why do you have a corset, panties, and stockings?" Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow at Arthur.

                Arthur waved him off, "You can ask me again if I pick truth." He said, swigging from his beer.

                About a minute later, Francis returned, a smirk on his face and a ridiculous amount of lace in his hands. "Now, you have three choices," he grinned at the horrified look on Jett's face, "You can strip out here and I can dress you, you can strip in the bathroom and I can dress you, or you can make Matthew do it, take three shots of moonshine and forever be known as the guy who was too scared to put on a pair of panties."

                Jett grumbled and stood, stalking toward the bathroom.

                "We'll be out momentarily."

                When they returned, Jett sat back in his seat irritably, covering as much of himself and the underwear as possible, scowling at Matthew who had a pleased smirk on his face, "Are you happy now?"

                "Yes, actually." He replied, with an appraising glance and a widened smirk.

                "Jesus Mattie!" Alfred groaned, "When did you get so gay?"

                "I've always been this gay." Matthew replied nonchalantly, "You're just too wrapped up in your own little bubble of heterosexuality that you didn't notice."

                "I don't-!"

                "Enough!" Gilbert groaned, "Just spin the fucking bottle."

                Jett spun the bottle and took his shot, grabbing his beer and chugging the rest of it, "Okay Antonio," he said when the bottle stopped, "Truth or dare?"

                Antonio, who thus far had been uncharacteristically quiet, looked up, "Uh," he said, hesitating for a moment, "Dare."

                "Ok, I dare you to... Take off your shirt and let each of us write something on your body."

                Antonio frowned, but was ultimately relieved that he wouldn't be forced to do anything awkwardly sexual, so he tugged his shirt up over his head, "Ok, do your worst..."

                Five minutes and plenty of giggling later, he was covered in a collage of messages ranging from crudely drawn penises to an ' _enter here_ ' written on his lower back with an arrow pointing down.

                "Leave your shirt off," Emma said with a chuckle, "I haven't a chance to read them all yet."

                Antonio shrugged, "Ok, but I would quite like to know what Kirkland wrote."

                Arthur narrowed his eyes scathingly, "Don't trust me Anthony?"

                "Not as far as I could throw you." Antonio replied, his lip curling.

                "Boys." Francis warned, glaring at both of them.

                Antonio turned his head away with a huff, reached for the bottle in the centre and spun it, holding out a hand for his shot. He gulped it down, and waited for it to stop spinning, he grinned maliciously when it did.

                "Arthur," he said, "Truth or dare?"

                Arthur hesitated for a moment, "Dare..." he said hesitantly, because there was no way he was letting _Antonio_ of all people free reign over his deepest secrets.

                Antonio smirked, "I dare you to drink three shots of moonshine."

                Arthur's eyes widened for a moment, before he came upon a realization, "I challenge the dare." He said, with a vicious smirk, "If I'm going down, you're going down with me."

                Two minutes later they were sat at opposite sides of the dining table, each with three shot glasses in front of them.

                "Ready?" asked Gilbert, waving the bottle in front of them.

                A snapped "Yes!" from both men was enough to get him to continue.

                "So how long exactly has this little dick-measuring contest between them been going on?" Alfred whispered, nudging Francis in the side to catch his attention.

                Francis looked at him for a short moment before seemingly deciding that it couldn't do any harm to tell him, "You know that Arthur is friends with his brother, right?"

                "Yeah, they've got a serious bromance going on."

                "Well," Francis whispered, as Gilbert poured an equal amount of Moonshine into each shot glass. "Arthur went to visit Gabriel one year -Arthur was seventeen and Toni would have been nineteen- and they got really competitive over him, and of course Gabriel thought they were being stupid, because they were... Anyway, he locked them both in a room and told them to grow up and sort it out. No one but them is entirely sure what happened in there, but ever since they've pretty much refused to talk to one another."   

                "Really?"

                Francis was about to reply when he was interrupted by a countdown of "Three! Two! One! Drink!" and the two men downed the first shot.

                They both started coughing, "Jesus bloody Christ almighty!" Arthur choked, while Antonio swore to himself in Spanish.

                "That's 190 proof Moonshine for you guys." Alfred laughed.

                "That's made of corn?" Antonio winced.

                "Yup."

                "And we have to drink two more shots of that?"

                "Yup."

                They both turned back to the remaining shots, their faces hardening. "You ready?" Arthur asked.

                Antonio nodded, "Tres, dos, uno, beber!"

                Both of them downed their shot, wincing, but managing to get away without the coughing fit of last time.

                Arthur grimaced, "This stuff is awful, it's like corn flavoured death."

                "It's designed to get you drunk, not taste good."

                "I can tell!"

                "Last one," Antonio said, shaking his head a little and reaching for the final shot, "Estás listo, hijo de mil putas?"

                Arthur glared at him for a moment before deciding it wasn't worth the trouble of asking him to translate whatever he had said. "Let's just get this over with."

                "Three."

                "Dos."

                "One."

                They didn't wait this time, just downed the liquor.

                Neither of them remember anything after that, but they are both assured that they were extremely cute when passed out together on the sofa, and that neither Emma or Francis mind that they once had wild sex when locked in a room together and were too embarrassed to face each other afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tres, dos, uno, beber! - Three, two, one, drink!
> 
> Estás listo, hijo de mil putas? - Are you ready, son of a thousand bitches?   
> (Okay, I'm going to be honest with you, I included this phrase because I find it absolutely hilarious. It's like, "You son of a bitch!" "Yeah, well, you're the son of a THOUSAND bitches! How does that feel?" I don't know, I just thought it amusing)
> 
> Think that's all for translations, again, if it's shitty, tell me and I'll change them.


	15. Subscribed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to ridiculous fluff! Hooray!
> 
> Subscriber counts... do you care? (Imma put them anyway, since I actually spent time thinking about this... and I'm not even sure that people read these notes...)
> 
> ~FlyingMintBunny: 5,000,034  
> ~BigBrotherFrancis: 9,687,002  
> ~Amerinadian Gaming: 3,065,283  
> ~BruceTheKoala: 4,806,337  
> ~DasGilbird: 11,008,916  
> ~The Tomato Gang: 1, 999, 764
> 
> I think that's all the channels I've mentioned so far.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Francis!"

                The call came from Arthur's recording room, making the Frenchman in question turn from his cooking with a curious frown on his face.

                "Oui, qu'est-ce que est-il?"

                "Come in here a minute."

                Francis frowned a little deeper, turning off all the appliances and wiping his hands on a tea towel as he walked slightly warily toward the room. He peered around the corner, watching Arthur stare intently at the screen.

                Arthur waved a hand for Francis to come in, pointing at the screen. "Make sure I'm reading this right."

                Francis walked over, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder ash he leant over to look at where Arthur was pointing.

                "Five million." He said breathlessly.

                Arthur let out a choked laugh, "Five million!" he said, still staring at the screen. He turned to Francis, a massive grin blooming on his face, "Five million subscribers!"

                Francis grinned back, dragging Arthur into a massive hug, "Five Million!"

                They sat there for a moment, before turning back to the screen and re-reading the words at the top of his channel page announcing that he had '5,000,034 subscribers' again.

                Arthur laughed breathlessly, covering his mouth with his hands, "I can't believe it!"

                Francis turned Arthur's face to his own, and kissed his breathless, Arthur responding so enthusiastically that they both tipped back onto the floor.

                After a moment of ignoring their predicament and the pain in his behind in favour of groping happily at Arthur's, they were forced to break apart for air. Francis grinned at his grinning fiancé, "Congratulations," he said, nuzzling against Arthur's nose, "You deserve it."

                Arthur just laughed breathlessly again, "I..." he began, but couldn't finish before Francis was kissing him again.

                "Bien fait, mon petit lapin!" Francis laughed, once again not letting Arthur get a word in before he had reconnected their lips.

                They stayed like that for a while, grinning like lunatics, kissing whilst laying on the hardwood floor of Arthur's recording room.

                As they laid there, the kissing became slower, deeper, their hands roaming over chests and stomachs, necks and backs, cheeks and lips, their breathing became heavier but slower, their bodies pressing just a little closer.

                And then Arthur sucked Francis' bottom lip into his mouth, making the Frenchman moan softly, and the Brit shiver. Arthur took the lip between his teeth, pulling away slowly and letting it slip out from between them, drawing a shuddering breath from the man below him.

                "We should celebrate." He said huskily, pressing his lips to Francis' stubbled jaw, kissing a trail toward his ear.

                Francis groaned, smiling lewdly, "How do you suggest?"

                Arthur chuckled, nibbling on the lobe of Francis' ear, "I suggest that we get off this floor," -lick- "Into the bedroom," -bite- "and sort out the little problem," -kiss- "We both seem to have down south..."

                ... _Oh_ , and Francis was all _too_ happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oui, qu'est-ce que est-il? - Yes, what is it?
> 
> Bien fait, mon petit lapin! - Well done, my little bunny!
> 
> Hooray for Translations! Even if they're probably not necessary...


	16. Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't written anything for the last couple of days, I've been horrendously sick...
> 
> Another drabble about Arthur being an arsehole... Am I the only one who likes the idea that Arthur really likes practical jokes? (Like his scare-contest with America every year... does that count? I don't know, it's a weird headcannon...) Also, teasing Francis is best Francis (You'll see what I mean at the end)  
> Monique is Monaco, Francis' sister, the only one who knows how to procure Francis' favourite wine, Arthur's go-to 'I'm sorry' gift... (Arthur has to call in favours a lot, and Monique has kept a record of them all for... use at a later date)
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Do you see this?" Francis asked the camera, his tone one of a man that has had to deal with far too much for far too long.

                "Everywhere..." he groaned as he pointed the camera around, "This is how I woke up this morning. No Arthur, just a note and _this._ "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                You might be wondering exactly what _this_ is that's everywhere.

                Well, to explain, first read Arthur's note...

                _Francis,_

_I'm sorry you didn't get to see me this morning, I couldn't wake you, not if I wanted to pull off my surprise for you._

_Since, as you know, I'm going to be in America for the next few days, I thought I would leave you a little something so you're sure not to forget about me while I'm gone._

_I love you._

_Arthur_

_P.S. My brothers helped me out, so be sure to thank them as well._

                Francis had frowned confusedly at that note when he'd read it, feeling around the bed, before concluding that whatever it was, it must be outside.

                As soon as he'd opened the door he'd frozen.

                _No..._

                _No, he didn't..._

_He. Did. Not._

_He did._

                Arthur's face.

                Pictures of Arthur's stupid face.

                Everywhere...

                The walls.

                The ceiling.

                The tables and chairs.

                The Appliances.

                Even the inside of the _fridge_!

                Everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "I tell you what," Francis said, turning the camera on himself, an irritated and determined scowl on his face, "I hope you're happy Arthur, because when you get home you will be sleeping on the couch for as many days as it takes hours for me to clean this all up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Shit dude!" Alfred laughed, slapping the guffawing Arthur on the back, "How long did that take?"

                Arthur wiped his eyes, "It took the three of us a little over four hours," he said, "But it was so worth it."

                "I can't believe your brothers agreed to help you."

                Arthur laughed a little, "They like pissing Francis off almost as much as they like pissing me off," he said, waving a dismissive hand, "It wasn't a hard sell."

                "You're gonna be on the couch for fuckin' ever. Y'know that right?"

                Arthur nodded, a slightly contemplative scowl on his face. "You're right," he mused, "I'll have to figure out a way to make it up to him..."

                Alfred opened his mouth to reply but couldn't get past the first syllable before Arthur spoke again.

                "I think," he said distractedly, tapping his finger against his chin, "I need to call in a favour from Monique..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_To: Monique_

_From: Arthur_

Can I ask you a favour?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_To: Arthur_

_From: Monique_

I saw the video.

When do you get back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_To: Monique_

_From: Arthur_

Wednesday. 4:00pm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_To: Arthur_

_From: Monique_

I will be in London at 4:30, do not be late, or I'm drinking it myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Francis, my love?" Arthur called sheepishly, peering through the gap in the door, before slipping through, and into the vandalism-free flat.

                "Darling, I brought a peace-offering!" he called again, wondering if perhaps, Francis had gone out.

                As he rounded the corner to the living room, he got his answer.

                Francis was standing in the middle of the room.

                He was standing in the middle of the room, in some kind of heavenly mixture of lace and something sheer and nothing else, a huge smirk on his face.

                Arthur froze.

                There was no way this wasn't a trick...

                "Bonjour, mon petit lapin." Francis purred, and Arthur had a hard time swallowing the lump in his throat, "Je suis tellement contente que tu sois de retour. Je commençais à penser que j'avais habillé pour rien."

                Francis slunk forward, the smirk on his face only getting wider the stiffer he saw Arthur become.

                "I-I'm sorry..." Arthur stammered, "What was that?"

                "I said," Francis said, licking his lips tauntingly, "I'm glad you're back, and that I was worried I had gotten all dressed up for nothing..."

                "Is that so?" Arthur said, trying to keep his breath steady, but damn it, it was hard when Francis was like this...

                Francis hummed in the affirmative, brushing past Arthur, and leaning in to breathe against his ear, "Now I'm free to go to bed knowing that the only thing you'll be thinking about while on that couch is me."

                If you asked Francis later, he would say that the whimper that Arthur let out at that sentence was almost enough to make him turn around, but if you asked him again even later, he would say that the events of the next day made his own night of discomfort completely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je suis tellement contente que tu sois de retour. Je commençais à penser que j'avais habillé pour rien. - I'm so glad you came back. I was beginning to think I had gotten dressed up for nothing.
> 
> Francis kinda translates it in the fic, but oh well.....


	17. Comments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn this one is cheesy and sappy and- Jesus... What am I doing?
> 
> I don't think I have anything else to add...
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Did you ever officially come out to your fans?" Francis asked rather abruptly.

                Arthur frowned at him, glancing from the film that he wasn't really watching to Francis who had an unreadable expression on his face. He sat up and pursed his lips in thought.

                "Made a video correcting my fans that I was bi, not gay, but I don't think I ever had a 'coming out of the closet' video... if that's what you mean. Why?"

                Francis just shrugged, shifting a little so he was cuddled up a little tighter in the thick blanket that swamped them both. "It's nothing really." He said, but Arthur had known him long enough to recognize the _'it's not nothing and whatever it is is really eating at me but I'm too prideful to actually seek help about it'_ tone.

                Arthur sighed, positioning himself so that he was facing Francis rather than the TV, whilst pressing the mute button on the remote, "And I'm fucking Jennifer Lawrence." He said dryly.

                "Well I certainly hope not." Francis joked lamely.

                Arthur levelled a look at him, "Francis, why did you bring that up?"

                Francis hesitated for a moment, "I just..." his brows furrowed, "I don't..."

                Arthur smiled softly, running a finger over Francis' cheek lightly, "You started reading the comments again, didn't you?"

                Francis bit his lip, and that was all the answer he needed.

                Arthur kissed him firmly, pulling away before Francis had any clue what was going on, "You..." he began, pressing their foreheads again, "Should no pay any attention to what those wankers say about you."

                "I know," Francis replied, refusing to meet Arthur's gaze, "It's just that..."

                He stumbled over his words for a moment, Arthur waiting patiently while he did, running his fingers soothingly through Francis' hair and over his neck.

                "It was on the announcement video," he finally began, "And I'm so happy that you proposed, and that I get to spend my life with you, and most of the comments were lovely and heart-warming, but then- It's not like I've never heard the slurs before. I've heard them in person before. But... I don't know..." he trailed off, his mouth opening and closing for a few moments before he seemed to settle on closed.

                Luckily, Arthur was there to fill in the rest, "It's because they're tarnishing your happiness with their hate, they're trying to ruin something special to you and that hurts you more than it would on any other video. Am I right?"

                Francis nodded, sighing weakly.

                Arthur smiled, "I know you know this, but just ignore it, darling." He kissed Francis' forehead tenderly, "All of your fans love you, both for and despite anything you've done, online or otherwise."

                He tilted Francis' face so that he was forced to meet his eyes. "More importantly," he said solemnly, plucking Francis' hand from inside the blanket and pressing his lips to the fingers, "I love you, both for and despite everything you've done, and that ring on your finger is proof that I always will. So don't you go around dwelling on shite that some immature, homophobic pisshead has said in a comment, because I guarantee that they aren't, and I won't have you regretting your own happiness on the back of their misery."

                Francis smiled softly, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath through his nose, "I think sometimes that you were meant to be a writer," he said so softly it was practically a whisper, "You have such a way with words. You always know just what to say."

                Arthur smiled back, a little sceptically, "Well, I used to write poetry."

                Francis laughed a little through his nose, "I know, I've read it."

                "Not the stuff from when I was sixteen..." Arthur said, a slightly horrified look of reminiscing on his face. "God, I was such a whiney teenager, not that I had anything to whine about. It was like that fucking Bill Bailey sketch..."

                "You know I don't watch British comedy." Francis replied, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

                "But the fact that you knew he was a comedian is enough for me to claim victory."

                Francis didn't reply, just leaned forward, tucking his face into Arthur's neck and wrapping his arms around his chest, "I love you." He mumbled, tightening his hold so they were pressed firmly together, "I love you so, so much."

                Arthur kissed the top of his head, rubbing soothing circles into the Frenchman's back, "You're amazing," he replied quietly, "And I don't deserve you, but by some miracle you seem to think I'm worthy of your time, and because of that I am the single luckiest man in the world. So if you ever feel the urge to feel self conscious over the things that those arseholes say to you anonymously over the internet, just remember that there is a man, not ten metres away, that thinks you are the best thing ever to happen to his life, and that he loves you more than every single one of your fans combined."

                Francis sniffed quietly into Arthur's neck, "You're too good to me."

                Arthur laughed softly, "Hardly."

                Francis shook his head, releasing Arthur in favour of wiping his eyes and leaning their foreheads together, "Thank you."

                "There's nothing to thank me for." Arthur said in reply, brushing Francis' hair from his face.

                Francis just shook his head again, pressing their lips together briefly.

                "Yes there is," he smiled, leaning in for a longer kiss this time, "Merci pour m'aimer."

                Arthur stared into Francis' eyes for a moment while he translated...

                Then he smiled.

                "And thank you," he said, "For loving me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merci pour m'aimer. - Thank you for loving me.
> 
> But you already knew that.
> 
> The sketch Arthur was refering to was this one, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trkkPInOUgk) from Bill Bailey's 'Part Troll'.


	18. Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was weird to write, I'm going to be honest...
> 
> So I wrote it as if it were an actual video and I'm not sure how that went... Anyway, Alastair and Rhys are in London to visit their mother, (They don't live there, as soon as Arthur moved out Alastair moved to Scotland with his girlfriend, and Rhys moved to Wales, both of them rather eager to get back to the places they called 'home' as young children) and Arthur and Francis decided to take advantage of the fact they were there. Arthur, Alistair, and Rhys aren't actually blood related, but were all adopted by the same parents when they were the ages of 6, 9, and 8 respectively, (There was a fourth boy in the house named Seamus but he left home and moved to Ireland as soon as he was old enough and doesn't have much contact with any of them anymore beside the occasional grudging birthday or christmas card)...  
> Is that everything? I think so, I'm sorry if Scotland's and Wales' characterizations are a little off, I couldn't really decide how to portray them.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Wake up sleepyhead," Francis cooed, making the man on the other side of the bed groan and roll over, away from the too-cheerful voice of the Frenchman, and the too-bright early morning sunlight that was streaming through the open curtains.

                Francis chuckled and moved around the bed, pointing the camera at the lump in the covers that was Arthur's head, "Réveille-toi, we're filming the video today."

                Arthur's head peeked out from the covers, his thick eyebrows pinched together, "I know it's a 'day in the life', but do you really need to film me waking up?" he said, his voice gravely with sleep.

                "I have sworn to document the whole day, and this is important."

                Arthur just rolled his eyes and yawned, swatting at the camera irritably, "Fine, just turn that bloody thing off so I can get dressed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Here we observe the Cheesy Frogus in its natural habitat," Arthur said in his best impression of David Attenborough, zooming the camera in from where he stood in the kitchen doorway.

                Francis turned away from the hob and the omelette he was cooking with a dry expression of general unamusement, making Arthur stifle a laugh through his hand, "Would you look at that! It appears to have noticed me," he continued.

                "Arthur."

                "I think it's trying to communicate,"

                "Arthur."

                "Perhaps I can attempt to make contact with this strange creature."

                "Arthur!"

                "Oh, it seems to be getting aggressive!"

                "Arth-!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So, Francis, tell the dear viewers what we have planned for today."

                Francis reclined on the small wooden chair, swallowing his own piece of omelette before speaking, "Well, you have to record a video, then we were going to go out to meet your brothers," at this Arthur made a noise of disgust from behind the camera, by Francis continued on regardless, "Have lunch, and knowing you, fish someone's shoes out of the Thames..."

                "That happened once!"

                "What about that time you got high and-"

                "Okay! Yes! I get it!"

                Francis smiled smugly, "Anyway, then we're going to come home and probably relax for the rest of the day..."

                Arthur turned the camera on himself, "I apologize for our boring lives. With any luck the couple of hours with my brothers will provide enough content for a video."

                "You're so pessimistic."

                "Your point?"

                "Nothing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Arthur! We need to go!"

                "Wait just a bloody minute, my brothers can take care of themselves for the time it takes me to find a ruddy scarf!"

                "I'm not sure they can."

                "Yeah, well, if they can't, you're bailing them out this time!"

                "Not a chance!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Alistair," Arthur said, a look of pure derision on his face, perfectly mirrored in his voice, "Why don't you tell us and our lovely viewers what just happened?"

                He turned the camera on his brother, who's wet and dripping hair was clinging to his face and equally wet and dripping clothes, "I'll have you know that this was not my fault!" he protested, while Rhys snickered from beside him.

                "We were literally two minutes late. How did you manage to do something stupid already?"

                "Shut it!" Rhys chuckled, "You wanted him to tell the story didn't you?"

                "There's no story to tell!" Alistair protested, "This arse tipped his drink over me!"

                "You deserved it!"

                "How? What did I possibly do?"

                "You left your fucking used condom in-"

                Arthur made a noise that can only be described as an ' _I do not even slightly want to hear the rest of that sentence_ ' noise, and turned the camera on himself, "Okay, that's enough of this conversation!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So we dared Allie to try to catch a pigeon." Rhys said, turning the camera on the park, where the large, red-haired Scotsman was attempting to be stealthy enough to sneak up on a large swarm of pigeons.

                "The nutter actually agreed." Arthur said amusedly.

                "I think his pride is still hurt from the drink incident." Rhys replied.

                "He's going to hurt himself." Francis added mournfully.

                "Oh lighten up Francis." Rhys laughed, "If he does hurt himself it'll make a good video at least."

                Francis made a sceptical noise.

                Just afterwards Alistair jumped at the pigeons, scattering them and causing a huge plume of them to take off, so that he fell flat on his face with nothing to show for it.

                The camera shook as uproarious laughter erupted from all three of the other men.

                "What an utter pillok."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "How's your hot chocolate Artie?" Alistair asked, a teasing edge to his words.

                "Lovely, thank you." Arthur snapped back, taking a tentative sip and scowling pointedly at his brother.

                The camera was turned around, to the smirking faces of the Englishman's brothers, "Francis insisted we go to Starbucks, and little Artie doesn't like coffee, so-"

                "Well I'm sorry I don't like bitter bean juice!" Arthur snapped.

                "Starbucks is about as far from bitter as you can get." Rhys replied, raising an eyebrow.

                "He's right," Francis added, "Really, if you can't drink Starbucks then-"

                "Oh belt up Francis, you don't like tea!"

                "That's because I like my drinks to have flavour."

                "What tea have you been drinking?"

                "Yours, and in four years I have yet to find one that tastes better than a good latte."

                "I refuse to believe...!"

                Alistair and Rhys were just staring into the camera with matching, ' _we have to deal with this way too fucking often_ ' expressions, "They may be a while." Said Alistair, "We'll cut to when they're finished."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                The camera was turned on Arthur, a deep scowl on his face, staring intently at something off-camera.

                "Look at him." Alistair snickered.

                "I think he's going to explode." Rhys agreed, snorting slightly, "He's practically turning green."

                The camera panned a little to Francis who was chatting with a small group of girls, a charming and flirty smile on his face.

                "I swear he does this on purpose." Rhys said amusedly.

                "There's no way he doesn't know." Alistair replied.

                "Is he signing her chest?"

                "He's signing her chest."

                "Francis!"

                "Oh shit, he's done it now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "When we get home I buying you a bloody chastity belt."

                "No need to overreact, Arthur."

                "Really?  I'm overreacting?"

                "I only-"

                "Signed her bloody tits!"

                "She didn't have any paper."

                "You couldn't have- For fucks sake! You know what, whatever."

                And then Arthur stalked off to the sounds of his brother's laughter, and pitiful noises of Francis running after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So we lost Artie and Francis." Rhys said, "We've been walking around for about an hour with no sign of them."

                "We think they might have gone home for make-up sex." Alistair added.

                "Yeah, and we don't want to walk in on that, so we thought we'd wait until one of them calls us to give the all clear, so we can give them back their camera. In the meantime we thought we'd just hi-jack their vlog and go to some kind of cheesy tourist destination because we have nothing better to do."

                "I mean we could go to the pub, but they'd probably whinge at us if we didn't do anything interesting."

                "And the London Eye is interesting?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                The camera was pointed at the London Eye, zooming randomly in and out as the man operating it tried to get it to focus on the white wheel rather than the white sky.

                "This is so dull."

                "Tell me something I didn't know already."

                "Well, I did expect it to do at least something noteworthy."

                "It's a giant fucking Ferris Wheel! What noteworthy things could it possibly do?"

                "I heard it lights up or something."

                "It's the middle of the bloody day, what did you expect?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So we met this lovely bloke, Charlie over here." Rhys said, turning the camera to a man dressed as a black and white Charlie Chaplin, who waved and beckoned him over, "And he wanted to be a part of the vlog, so," he turned and positioned the three of them were in the shot together, "Here you go Charlie!" and all three of them flashed winning smiles at the camera.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Do you think we should call them?" Rhys asked through his 99.

                "Nah, mid-sex Artie isn't something I want to hear, over the phone or any other time."

                "It's not like they'd keep going while we're on the phone."

                "Well there was one time when he was-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                The screen cut to black, a picture of Arthur's scowl plastered across the centre, and text reading 'for the sake of my love-life I'm going to cut this bit' across the bottom whilst elevator music played in the background.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So no call then?"

                "I'd rather just wait."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So Rhys was a complete idiot and forgot to turn off the camera, so we're out of battery."

                "I refuse to take blame for this."

                "You were the one with the camera, it's your fault!"

                "I hardy th-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "So that was our 'day in the life' video." Francis said, his face lit only by his computer monitor. "I'm sorry it couldn't have been more conventional and less Arthur and myself being in an argument, but he really is too funny not to mess with." He chuckled a little.

                "Anyway, I just finished editing this together, and thought it needed an end note, so, this is just me saying thank you for watching and à bientôt!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is a little baby who can't drink coffee, and Francis is a coffee snob (You can fight me on this)
> 
> The Charlie Chaplin I mentioned is a 'living statue' guy that hangs out quite a bit around the Eye, I've seen him when I visited recently, and he's actually rather cool, we even took a selfie together ;D
> 
> A 99 is a type of ice-cream for those who don't know.


	19. Fanfiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDEK with this chapter... the ending is weak 'cause I didn't know how to end it, sorry...
> 
> So, in this AU Alfred is a little trust fund baby and that's why he can fly all over without that much trouble. His parents aren't entirely supportive of their son's career choice, but they have a deal that says that so long as he is bringing in some money for himself, they will continue giving him his allowance, and a Jones man never goes back on his word. They pay for all his travel and stuff like that, and although they could afford first class, they buy him business passive-aggressively until he decides to get a 'real job', not that he ever plans to, not so long as he can help it.  
> There is a lot of shipping that goes on between their little youtube groups, on Arthur's end and on Francis'. The most popular one in Arthur's group of gamers being 'FlyingMintHero' (Arthur/Alfred), closely followed by 'MapleFlavouredHero' (Matthew/Alfred), and with 'BruceTheBunny' (Jett/Arthur) coming in at a close third, ignoring, naturally, the dozens of ones that just revolve around them all being in a room together and gang-banging, because that's something the four of them would rather not think about. On Francis' end the whole ordeal involves mostly gang-banging, although Francis refuses to refer to it that way, and upon searching for 'the bad friends trio' porn is probably what you'll find. The 'DasGilbird' crew are all shipped with in another in one way or another, although both Gilbert and Ludwig were horrified to find out that there were fanfictions depicting them together... romantically and... *shudder* sexually. There is little fanfiction of 'The Tomato Gang' and the four of them are incredibly grateful, not that they don't find it flattering, but it is just a little creepy... right?
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                Arthur moaned into Francis' mouth as he was pushed back onto the sofa, the Frenchman's nimble fingers already having worked their way into Arthur's jeans.

                He pulled away, groaning and throwing his head back, "You choose the most inopportune moments to get horny," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut, "They're going to be here any minute."

                Francis just smirked, leaning down to kiss down Arthur's neck, and to Francis' delight, he tilted his neck to give him better access, "I don't see you complaining, if you were that worried about them coming you wouldn't be quite so eager now would you?"

                Arthur let out a strangled laugh, "You make it hard to say no."

                Francis smiled against Arthur's neck, pushing their hips just a little closer together in a way that he knew drove Arthur absolutely mad, "I do no such thing," he replied, "I make it easy to say yes."

                He then did something with his hand that had Arthur reaching up to kiss him again, "Jesus Christ Francis," he groaned through their lips, "If we get caught I'm going to kill you."

                Francis hummed in a way that said he knew exactly what would happen if they got caught, but he had decided that he didn't much care, "You need to relax, my dear." He chuckled, "How else am I supposed to suitably ravish you?"

                Arthur grumbled something inaudible, making Francis chuckle again, but before he could make another lewd comment they were interrupted by a shout of, "We heard the moaning! You better get your pants up pretty damn quick, or else we're coming in any way!"

                Arthur pushed Francis off him and onto the floor so fast that Francis barely had time to lament his loss before Arthur was angrily growling something along the lines of "I told you so you idiot!" and trying to make himself presentable.

                Francis just sighed and flicked his hair out of his eyes, "Could you not have waited five more minutes?" he called, as Alfred entered the room, a smug grin on his face.

                "Could you not have decided to have sex five minutes earlier?" Matthew replied as he entered behind him. "You knew we were coming."

                "I cannot control when and where the mood strikes me," Francis said, waving a hand at them nonchalantly, "And for all we knew you were going to be another hour."

                Matthew raised an eyebrow, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen, "I'm making coffee, that flight was awful."

                "Oh god, it was fucking painful, you don't even know." Alfred said, flopping back onto the couch that had not just been defiled by Arthur and Francis, and taking his glasses off so he could rub tiredly at his face.

                "What, did you have to ride economy or something?" Arthur asked a little bitterly, making Francis bite his lip to contain a chuckle.

                "Hardy har har." Alfred replied, narrowing his eyes at the Brit's slightly smug smile, "No, but we did have to sit next to this business asshole who complained about everything, I swear, I was going to punch him in the face."

                "Ahh," Francis sighed wistfully, "The pains of business class."

                "Can it Francis." Alfred grumbled.

                "Why is your first solution to everything just to punch it in the face?" Arthur asked sceptically.

                "It's the 'American Way' I think." Matthew said, returning with two cups of coffee clutched in his hands. He handed one to Alfred who took it graciously and practically inhaled it, making Matthew raise his eyebrow just a little, "Something about exercising their freedom."

                Alfred muttered something that sounded distinctly like "Damn right" through his coffee, as both Arthur and Francis scoffed lightly.

                Matthew rolled his eyes with a small smile, turning to Arthur and Francis, the latter of which was still sitting on the floor, "Thank you again for letting us stay here," he said, smiling politely, before turning to Francis and saying something in sceptical French.

                Francis chuckled lightly, before replying something that made Matthew grimace, shooting back something that sounded irritated and making Francis laugh again.

                Alfred glanced dryly at Arthur who had a semi-amused eyebrow raised at the two of them, who seemed to now be in some kind of verbal sparring match that neither Arthur or Alfred were good enough at French to decipher at such a speed. Alfred rolled his eyes irritably, "I swear they do this on purpose," he grumbled.

                "I should imagine it's rather refreshing to speak in one's mother tongue every now and again," Arthur replied, shrugging slightly.

                " _I should imagine it's rather refreshing to speak in one's mother tongue every now and again_ ," Alfred repeated in a poor mockery of Arthur accent, pinching his nose to make it sound nasally and twisting up his face childishly.

                "Now that's just immature." Arthur frowned.

                " _Now that's just immature._ " Alfred repeated again, his lips twitching in a smirk.

                "Alfred!"

                " _Alfred!_ "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                " _Alfred_!" came the moan from the other side of Arthur's recording room door, " _Alfred, yes harder!_ " Laughter erupted from inside, followed by the choked out " _Arthur moaned, as Alfred-_ Jesus Christ I can't read this anymore!"

                Francis rolled his eyes, this was one of Alfred's more ridiculous video ideas, but he did have to admit that sitting on the other side of the door with Matthew at his side and a bowl of popcorn between them, listening to the two of them struggle through the most erotic fanfiction that the former could drag up from the darkest depths of the internet for them to read was rather funny.

                "No, no, keep going," Alfred laughed, and even from the other side of the door, Francis could hear his cringe as he said, "I wanna hear more about me pounding you into the mattress!"

                "Where did Francis and Matthew find this?"

                "Dude, you obviously haven't seen Matt's internet history."

                "I heard that! My porn is none of your concern!" Matthew called, smirking at Francis, and making him chuckle as he popped another piece of the popcorn in his mouth, he didn't much care for it, but it was convenient to shove some in his mouth to stifle his laughter.

                "Forget it," Arthur said, "let's just start another one."

                "Sure thing. How 'bout this one, it's called, ' _Kissing me softly_ '..."

                Francis could feel Arthurs grimace from where he sat, and smiled to himself as Arthur began to read, " _Arthur was sat in his recording room, setting up his equipment in preparation for the video he was due to record later with his favourite_ _American-_ oh, this is starting off well..."

                "Shut up, just keep reading."

                " _He had been waiting months for him to visit again, and this time, with Arthur's boyfriend out of the way, they would have the apartment to themselves for a while-_ Eugh, this is going to be one of the ones where I cheat on Francis but feel no remorse, isn't it. It's good that the fans think I'm a massive dickhead." Arthur sighed, but continued, " _And he couldn't wait to finally feel those soft... Freedom-laced lips-_ 'Freedom-laced lips' What on earth are 'freedom-laced lips'?"

                Alfred snorted, "Dude, I don't know, but apparently I have them."

                " _Freedom-laced lips against his own once more-_ My god, I sound like a teenage girl - _All of a sudden he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and an equally strong American drawl whisper,_ "

                " _'Hey there baby, did you miss me?'_ "

                "Oh for the love of- _'Of course I missed you,' Arthur replied, spinning in his chair so that he could kiss his beloved American hero, 'My fantasies can only satisfy me for so long'-_ God, why?"

                The pair outside the door laughed along with Alfred, as the latter choked out the next line, " _'Well, you don't need to fantasise anymore, because I'm here to help you out now.'_ "

                " _He leant forward to capture the smaller Brits lips in a passionate embrace-_ Not once have I ever captured anyone's lips in a passionate embrace, what does that even mean?"

                "It's like-" There were some slurping noises from the other side of the door.

                "Alfred, stop being so crude."

                "We're reading a story about us having sex."

                "This was your idea."

                "Just keep reading."

                " _Arthur moaned, tugging on Alfred's shirt to bring them closer together as he whispered huskily, 'I want you,' smashing their lips back together-_ Hello, broken teeth _\- and groaning, 'inside me'_ \- okay, not only is that ridiculous, why am I always on the bottom in all of these? Do I give off that kind of vibe or something?"

                "Maybe it's 'cause you actually do it with dudes?"

                "And that means I've always got to get it up the arse?"

                "I guess so. I mean, can you actually imagine me getting it up the ass?"

                "I've never deigned to think about it, quite honestly. Should I keep reading?"

                "Yeah, go ahead."

                "It's your line anyway."

                "Oh, ahem- _'Don't worry, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk tomorrow'-_ I hate to say it, because you're the critical one here, but isn't this a secret relationship?"

                "It's implied to be, but we've seemingly forgotten about it, anyway- _Arthur dragged Alfred from the room and toward the true setting for their debauchery-_ " a heavy sigh, " _\- the place where he and his supposed beloved had lain together only the night before-_ I can't read this anymore."

                "Yeah, this is getting dark, I mean you don't even seem to care..."

                "PSA to any fanfic writers watching, don't do this," Arthur said, a grimace in his voice, "Write about my having sex with whomsoever you choose, but please don't make me seem as if I would throw away my fiancé without a second thought."

                Francis smiled softly from the other side of the door as Arthur continued, "I don't give a shit who you think I should be with, I've chosen Francis for myself, and if you could at least respect that enough not to make my fiancé seem like the heartless beast that's keeping me from my 'true love' or whatever, that would be great."

                He sighed heavily, "That's enough of this for today, I think, I'll let you sign off, I'm going to kiss my fiancé..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Arthur's fingers traced lazy patterns down Francis' back they kissed languidly, in bed, but fully clothed and in no rush to remove them. Their legs were tangled together underneath the sheets, Francis' feet rubbing gently up and down Arthur's calf as his fingers caressed his cheeks and neck.

                He let out a content sigh against Francis' lips, making the Frenchman in question smile a little and nip at Arthur's in return.

                Arthur chuckled a little, "Play nice." He said softly, not breaking their kiss.

                Francis hummed in response, "I am," -kiss- "I don't want to ruin this," -kiss- "I love it when you," -kiss- "Kiss me like this," -kiss- "I feel so special."

                Arthur smiled gently against the always soft lips of his partner, content to leave their conversation there.

                Neither of them spoke again until Francis felt Arthur fall asleep against him and kissed his forehead with a whispered, "Bonne nuit, mon petit lapin." Before settling down to sleep himself.


	20. Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, where have I been? 
> 
> Sorry, I have literally not written one of these if forever... that's a crime, I apologize.
> 
> I'm not sure if there is any exposition to put up here, except for the fact that their parents in this story are their 2p's and their Nyo's respectively, just so you have a kind of reference for that, but I think that's all so I'll let you get on with reading.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

                "Bonjour Mes Petits Lapins," Francis smiled, "You guys have been requesting that we do the boyfriend tag... a lot."

                "You've been practically spamming us," Arthur cut in rolling his eyes.

                "Yes, when I asked you what I should do in this video I didn't expect quite so many of you to request it, but we're here now, so let's get started."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Okay Arthur, our relationship rests on this, so you have to get at least three quarters of these right."

                "Brilliant, okay, good to know."

                "First question, Where did we meet?"

                "In a bar, and that's as far as we're going into that."

                Francis laughed, "Embarrassed, chouchou?"

                "There are things the fans don't need to know. Christ knows they don't need more fuel for their fanfictions."

                "I suppose I can't dissagree with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Next question, where was out first date?"

                "Here, London, you took the Eurostar from Paris and we went to dinner, it was a bit shit, then we got stuck in the rain so we had to hide in a bookshop, I thought the whole thing was a disaster, but when I took you back to your hotel you kissed me and told me you couldn't wait to see me again."

                "It _was_ a disaster, my dear, but you were so cute about it."

                "Shut up, Francis, like you could have done better."

                "We both know I could have." Francis smirked, flicking Arthur's nose playfully, and making the Brit scrunch it up distastefully.

                "Next question!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What was your first impression of me?"

                Arthur hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he wanted to be teased for the rest of his life about it... after a short while he decided to take the plunge, "I thought you looked like a model, and that you were too French for your own good."

                Francis smirked, "And now?"

                "Nothing's changed Frog," Arthur replied, punching him lightly in the arm, "You're still too pretty and too French."

                Francis grinned, "And you're still surly and British."

                "I hate you," Arthur said through a restrained laugh, shaking his head.

                "You know you're only supposed to tell the truth in this game, Arthur."

                "Shut up, you great buffoon!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "When did you meet the family?"

                "Your family? Oh, we'd been dating... four months or so, and I was at your house in Paris, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and your were in the shower. Your parents just showed up -I didn't know they were his parents, mind you and his dad is bloody terrifying at first glance- while I was drinking my morning tea, speaking French and I had no idea what they were saying, so I just kind of stared at them like an idiot until they stopped talking and all I could say was, 'I'm so sorry, I don't speak French,' and they started laughing -well your mum did- and I was so bloody confused. Then you showed up, and greeted them, and you were all speaking French, so I just sat back down, with no context, until you all decided to stop being arseholes and explain to be what on earth was happening, and that they were your parents, and they weren't supposed to show up until later, but they'd decided to surprise you, and they could, in fact, speak English, but decided to speak French just to spite me, I'm sure."

                Francis laughed heartily for a moment, "Non, ils t'aiment," he giggled, "They just like to mess with you, you're so easy to mess with."

                "Don't get me wrong," Arthur continued, "I love your parents, but I honestly think it was unnecessary to keep me in the dark for so long."

                "You would have been fine if you'd paid better attention in secondary school."

                "Oh give it up, I'm never going to learn French, and you're never going to be able to make a decent cup of tea."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Do I have any weird obsessions- if so, what?"

                "You have a new obsession every other day, you can't expect me to keep track of them all?"

                "What's my most recent one then?"

                "Those weird diet smoothie recipes."

                "They cleanse the body."

                "And bath bombs."

                "They are beautiful and they smell amazing!"

                Arthur rolled his eyes, "Just move on to the next question."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "How long have we been together?"

                "Four years, nine months, and... seven days."

                Francis stared at him in shock for a moment, as Arthur smirked at him, "I have to keep track, because I fear the day I miss our anniversary, you'd castrate me."

                Francis made a face that said something along the lines of ' _yeah, probably_ ', before speaking, "I'm still impressed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Do you have any traditions with your boyfriend?"

                Arthur frowned, "Do we?" he asked, "I mean, I don't..." he bit his lip in thought, "Does the trip to France on your birthday count as a tradition?"

                Francis nodded, "Yes, there's one more though."

                "Eugh, really?"

                "I'm prepared to give you half points if you want to give up."

                "No, no, give me a minute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Oh shit, of course! On our day-we-met-not-our-actual-anniversary anniversary we go to that bar we met in and I buy you a glass of wine and you buy me a whiskey, and then we go to dinner, and come home and get drunk on cheap champagne."

                "There is _one_ more thing..."

                "Get off it, you pervert!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What is my favourite restaurant?"

                "That poncey French one in Paris that I can't pronounce the name of."

                Francis rolled his eyes, "I'll give it to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What do we argue about the most?"

                "Everything."

                "That's not true."

                "We can literally make an argument out of anything."

                "That is not true! You make it sound as if we have a dysfunctional relationship!"

                "We are arguing about what we argue about right now."

                "Touché."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Who wears the pants in the relationship?"

                "Is this a trick question?"

                "Yes, the answer I have here is that the relationship is best when neither of us are wearing-"

                "Francis!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "If I am watching TV, what am I watching?"

                "Alone? Because if you mean alone then it's something in French," he frowned a little, "Well, that or shitty reality television."

                "Don't lie you watch shitty reality television too."

                "Yes, but at least mine doesn't make one want to throw oneself off a bridge."

                "Yes, _one_ would hate to do that."

                "Well I'm sorry I grew up with a mother who spoke like the bloody queen."

                "I don't know _what_ you thought I was implying?"

                "I swear to god I will start speaking French."

                "No! Arthur!"

                "Je-ay oo-ne pom, set le pay de le-amoor-"

                " ** _NON!_** "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What is one food I do not like?"

                "Anything I cook, you ungrateful bastard."

                "Correct, next question."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What is my shoe size?"

                "Disproportional to your penis."

                Francis sent him a dry look, making Arthur burst into laughter, "Remember kids, size doesn't matter!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "What is my eye colour?"

                He closed his eyes as Arthur instantly turned to face him, "Do you mean like exact shade, because they're blue to me."

                Francis chuckled, keeping his eyes closed, "I want to hear what shade you think they are now."

                "Deep blue, almost indigo," he smirked, leaning over to kiss him for a short moment. As he pulled away, Francis opened his eyes, "And absolutely beautiful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Francis had a tiny blush on his cheeks, Arthur a smug smile as the next question was read out, "What is something you to that I wish you didn't?"

                "Something _I_ do?"

                Francis nodded.

                "Endearingly or annoyingly?"

                Francis raised an eyebrow.

                "Because an endearing one would be you hating when I stay up late to write or make videos."

                "And an annoying one?"

                "You hate that I leave things laying around in my office, so you clean it up, but then I have no clue where it is."

                "Everything has a place, if you put them back there to begin with you'd know where they were when I needed to put them back. Honestly, I don't know how you record in that mess."

                "It's organized chaos, and every other place in this house is spotless."

                "That's not-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "If I could live anywhere, where would it be?"

                "You'd move back to France, probably to a quaint little village somewhere out of the way, I should imagine you'd have a vegetable garden, and you'd perhaps open an even quainter cafe, and you'd cook those little macaroons and-" Arthur stopped, noticing Francis' expression, "What?"

                Francis was looking at him with curiosity, "What about you?"

                "What about me?"

                "Where will you be?"

                Arthur smiled a little, "I'd be in a couch in the corner of the cafe, writing and getting fat off of macaroons."

                Francis smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "I'm impressed Arthur, you got them all right!"

                "You sound as if you didn't expect me to..."

                Francis remained dutifully silent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "That was the boyfriend tag, I hope you enjoyed! I did pretty well, if I do say so myself."

                "Yes, yes, Arthur... We'll see you next time, if you have any tag request for us, feel free to let us know, but in the meantime, we'll just say à bientôt!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are translations they're minimal and/or unimportant so I don't want to, until next time!


End file.
